The Dementor's Kiss

So sometimes my blog becomes my diary. This is partly due to the fact that I now find it much easier to type instead of write and partly because I believe that no one actually reads this. And if people ever start to read this, hopefully whatever I'm writing about now will have become irrelevant by then. I've just realised how long it takes me to get to my point. Prolixity Tash, prolixity.

So how did one of the happiest weeks I've had in a long time turn into a black pit filled with venemous reptiles? A little bit melodramatic, I know, but when you're on the verge of losing a seven year friendship due to extreme stupidity on both parts and you don't know if you'll ever be able to get it back, I think you have the right to be whatever you want to be. So I'm going to say yes, it feels like my heart is actually, physically breaking because it hurts that much. And yes, it feels as if I won't be happy again for a very long time. I'll even go one step further and say that I feel as if a dementor is sucking everything good out of me right now and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I can keep going, but I won't.

Words, my favourite weapon to use based on effectiveness and ability to manipulate emotions.
One day, my inability to shut my mouth is going to be my downfall. I find it incredibly difficult to hide my feelings and opinions, not to mention the fact that I have to be right all the time. If you've done or said something to me that I don't like, I'm going to have to tell you. And not in a simple, polite way - it has to be hard-hitting, assertive and it has to completely trump any counter argument you have. It has to be absolute. Partly because I have pride and intimacy issues and partly because I want you to feel the same way you've made me feel and I know I have the power to do that in a single sentence.

But why do we feel the need to hurt the people we love the most? I used to think it was only you who did that, but now I see just how guilty I am too. It's disgusting.
And why do I always seem to push away the people I actually want most in my life whenever I'm going through a rough patch? Why do people do that? Surely that's when I need them the most, right? Is it because I don't want them to see me when I'm weak and vulnerable? I must always be strong in their eyes. Or is it because I just need space to deal with whatever I'm going through without the added pressure of having to keep up appearances. Or maybe we're throwing ourselves a pity party and making it clear that no one else is invited, but we really just want them to gate-crash. Maybe pushing people out is a way of telling them that you want them to fight their way back in so you can gain back even a tiny bit of self-worth that you have lost. You want reassurance because you are insecure.

So maybe I wanted you to fight for me just a little bit more, just a little bit harder, just a little bit longer. I wanted to be sure that you really meant what you said and so I needed proof. You were doing so well, you were almost in the green zone before you quit. Three-quaters of the way - what a wasted effort.

So is this where this war of words ends? Of course I had to have the final say but I have a feeling that this time, I pierced right through to that magnificent four-chambered organ of yours and mercilessly twisted. Is it too late to pray that I've missed? Is it too late to do anything to fix this?

What have I done.

Right Now

So the sh*t finally hit the fan. I knew it was coming, I expected it because if there's one thing I've learnt in my 21 years, it is to always trust your instincts, especially as a woman. No matter how much you want something not to be true, if you feel it in your gut, it's most probably true. 
Still, it doesn't make it hurt any less. Actually, I'm lying there - it did hurt less when I finally found out because I think I'd had all this time to subconsciously prepare for it. I wish I didn't have to find out at all. Better still, I wish there was nothing to find out. Do you know what I really wish? I wish you were smart enough and skilled enough to build a machine that would defy the rules of time so you could go back and not do what you did, because apologising now isn't doing anything for me. Sorry doesn't fit in my pocket. However, that's me putting faith in you (once again) and believing that given a second chance, you would say no. Given a second chance, you would think of me first and decide that you weren't going to risk losing me for personal gain. That's what you're making me believe right now as the tears stream down your cheeks, tears that you claim you have never given to anyone else. Well how do you think I feel knowing that all you can give me is tears? And still, I take your tears and they break my heart. 
You think I'm a strong person, but I am weak when it comes to you. Weak. Broken. Vulnerable. Willing. Ashamed to admit that I not only want you in my life, but I feel like I need you. 
How did this happen? How did closing myself off to love, locking my heart away, keeping my distance, backfire in my face? I think that as I was hiding my love away from other people for so long, I was unknowingly giving it to you thinking you'd keep it safe for me. And you don't know what to do with it sometimes so you neglect it. You forget to take it out of your pocket when you put your jeans in the machine. You leave it for days without food. You lose it. You ignore it. You forget about it, but you never once let it go. You always come back to it and swear that this time, you'll take care of it, and like a new pet, it gets your utmost care and attention for a short while and then the novelty wears off. 
I have no choice but to take it back if you're not going to look after it properly.
And yes, I'll admit, you're doing a great job so far this time around, so great that I don't actually know where this is going. So great that you're messing with my head with the things you say. And I really don't want to ruin the moment but I have to ask - is this out of love or guilt?